“Who is Esther Yoder?”
“She’s the girl Isaac’s going to marry because Becky’s not Amish anymore.”
I took a sharp breath. “Did you tell anyone else?”
“No.”
“Why’d you tell Esther?”
“I saw her in town when I made a delivery to the bakery. She asked me all these questions about Becky. She wanted me to say something bad about my sister, but I wouldn’t.” She rolled a blade a grass between her fingers. “Instead, I told her about the interview and that Becky was driving herself to it. I wanted to show her Becky was fine.”
“Did you tell anyone else this?”
“No.” She shot a nervous glance at her mother who strolled toward us. “Don’t tell her.”
I nodded.
Mrs. Troyer placed a gentle hand on my arm. “Chloe, would you and Becky come inside for a piece of peach pie?”
“Of course.”
Mrs. Troyer’s smile lit up her entire face.
An hour later, Becky finally said good-bye to her family, and we walked back to the Prizm. Becky carried an Amish woven basket full of home-canned pickles, jams, and Amish bread in her hand. I carried Grayson Mathews’s business card.
Inside the car, I stuck the card in my visor so that I would remember to take it in the house. I needed to talk to Timothy about this latest development—and about why he left the Amish. Was there more to it than Aaron’s accident? Grandfather Zook was confident Timothy would tell me, but I wasn’t.
I did a U-turn in front of the tree and headed back home. “Becky, who is Esther Yoder?”
My question woke Becky from her happy daze. “Esther Yoder?”
I glanced at her.
She folded her hands in her lap. “How do you know about her?”
“Ruth told her about your interview.”
She gave me a sideways glance. “Esther wouldn’t have messed with your car. She wouldn’t even know how to open the hood, much less cut the brake line.”
“You’re probably right, but she may have told someone that could. Who is she? Why are you avoiding my question?”
Becky wrinkled her nose, making her look just like her twelve-year-old sister. “Her family owns the bakery downtown.”
“The one where you couldn’t get a job?”
She nodded.
“Do you think Esther had anything to do with that?”
She leaned her head on the window, her eyes downcast.
“Ruth said Esther would marry Isaac if you didn’t.” I took my eyes off the road for just a second to look at her.
She sighed. “Isaac can marry whomever he likes. It doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
I wasn’t so sure of that.
“Turn here,” Becky said when we approached an intersection. “This is a shortcut home.”
We drove onto another nameless county road with crop fields on either side. Half a mile ahead, we spotted a pickup truck on its side in the drainage ditch on the opposite side of the road.
Becky’s voice was distressed. “Chloe, the truck is green.”
I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles ached.
Chapter Forty-Four
I slowed down and turned on my headlights. Dusk had begun to fall. “It doesn’t look like anyone is there.”
Becky pressed her nose against her window. “We have to stop.”
I bit my bottom lip.
She turned to look at me. “We have to see if they’re okay.”
I nodded. “I’ll call the police and report the accident. Can you hand me my cell phone from my purse?”
Becky gave me the phone. No service. I groaned.
“What’s wrong?”
“No reception here.”
Becky put her hand on the door. “Chloe, we have to stop. What if they’re hurt?”
“Okay.” I stopped the Prizm next to the truck. “Do you think they are still in there?”
Becky unlatched the passenger side door, her eyes wide. Something moved on the other side of the overturned green pickup.
I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t get out.”
Curt and Brock climbed out of the ditch and stumbled across my headlights, covered head to toe in mud. It was like watching a clip from a swamp monster movie. Timothy and I had probably looked much the same.
I shifted the car into drive. “See, they’re fine. Let’s go.”
Becky put her hand on the dashboard. “Ask them if they’re hurt.”
My brow shot up. “Are you serious?”
“Please.”
“Fine.” I opened the window halfway. “Are you okay?”
Curt ambled over and leaned against my car. “Brock! Look who’s here. Our Red!” He twisted a glance in my direction. “Red, I didn’t know you cared.”
Brock wiped mud from his face with a filthy bandana.
“See.” I spoke through gritted teeth. “They’re both fine. I’ll call the police when we get back into town.”
Curt stood a foot from my car, his arms outstretched. “Red, are you here to rescue us?”
Brock folded his arms in front of his barrel chest and smirked at his scrawny friend. “Maybe you’re right, Curt. Maybe she likes you more than the Amish dude.”
Curt smiled, his teeth mottled. “I always knew Red wanted a real man.”
I started manually rolling up the window, but Curt reached through it. I jerked away from him, and he knocked the visor down. “Get out!” I screamed. He pulled his hand away and I finished rolling up the window.
I pressed the gas pedal to the floor and swerved around the truck. In my rearview mirror, I could see Curt and Brock doubled over in laughter.
When we were close enough to town to get a cell phone signal, I called the chief. She picked up on the first ring. “What do you have, Chloe? I’m in the middle of storm cleanup right now.” Chief Rose’s voice sounded sharp. “This better be good.”
I told her about Brock and Curt’s accident.
She groaned into the phone. “I’ll send a tow truck out there to pick them up. Not that they deserve it. Did they say anything to you?”
“Nothing important.” Appleseed Creek’s square came into view.
“Hmm.” She murmured as if she didn’t believe me. “All right. We’ll talk about this later.” Then she hung up.
In our driveway, I reached up to the visor for Grayson Mathews’s business card. It wasn’t there. A streak of dirt marred the cloth roof of the Prizm.
Becky had stepped out of the car. “What are you looking for?”
“Mathews’s business card. I put it in the visor.”
She pressed her lips into a line. “It must have gotten lost when Curt reached into the car.
I shrugged. “I don’t need it. I know how to find Mathews.”
Chapter Forty-Five
A cowbell on the glass door rang when I entered Amish Bread Bakery early the next morning. It was a little after seven o’clock, and the bakery shelves were fully stocked with fresh breads and pies for the day. All of the shelving was blond wood and glass, the only decoration a bouquet of wildflowers on the counter next to the cash register.
Two young Amish women stood behind the counter filling the glass-domed display case beneath with cookies and treats. The girl with dark brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses gave me a shy smile. I floated around the room, trying to decide what to buy, hoping the boys in the office would be surprised and pleased if I showed up with treats. I settled on sugar cookies and a strawberry pie. A short line of shoppers purchased pies and bread as the girls behind the counter chatted with them.
Finally, it was my turn. I placed my purchases on the counter. “Is Esther here?”
The girl wearing glass
es glanced at the other young Amish woman further down the counter. “That’s Esther.” Esther wore a white prayer cap over her dark blonde hair. Her hair was the same shade as the maple tables and shelves in her shop.
I paid for my purchases and moved down the counter to where Esther was helping an English woman wearing flip-flops, large hoop earrings, and a maxi dress select a tray of cookies.
“I’ll have the raisin cookies—wait—no the oatmeal. Wait no.” She tapped her nose with her index finger. “They all look so good. It’s impossible to decide.”
Esther smiled. “We have oatmeal raisin baking in the back. They may be done by now.”
“You do? Those would be perfect.”
“I will check for you.” Esther slipped through a swinging door that led to the back of the bakery.
I checked my cell phone for the time. A minute later Esther returned with a white bakery box. “Here you are, ma’am. I put two dozen in there for you.”
“Thank you.” The woman gushed, her maxi dress swishing around her feet as she moved down the counter to pay for her purchases.
Esther’s smile faded when she spotted me. “Do you need something else?” She scowled at my shopping bag.
“Are you Esther Yoder?”
“Yes.” She folded her arms across her chest.
“I’m—”
“I know who you are.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t hide my surprise.
“I will sell you anything in the shop, but I won’t talk to you about the Glick family or that girl.”
“That girl? You mean Becky?”
She ignored my question. “If you don’t need anything else, I would like to help my next customer, please.”
I glanced behind me. I was the only customer left in the store. “I don’t mean to upset you.”
The dark-haired girl at the cash register adjusted her glasses. She opened the counter display case and rotated the trays of cookies. With each tray turned she got closer to Esther and me.
“Becky and her family may think it is all right to talk about our ways with you, but I don’t.” She wiped the counter. “Please leave.”
The dark-haired girl walked over and said something in Pennsylvania Dutch to Esther. Esther shook her head. Abruptly, she turned and went through the swinging door that led to the kitchen.
I held up my shopping bag. “Thank you for these. I’m sure they will be a big hit at the office.” I stepped outside and the cowbell clanged after me. Hmm, that went well. I sighed and headed in the direction of the college.
The cowbell on Amish Bread Bakery rang behind me. “Miss!” A voice called. I turned to find the girl with the brown hair and glasses running down the sidewalk after me.
“Did I forget something?” Mentally, I checked for my purse, the cookies, and the pie.
“No.” She tried to catch her breath. “You wanted to talk to Esther about Becky Troyer?”
“Yes.”
“This is about the accident?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Good! I’ve been waiting to talk to someone. Esther may not speak to you, but I will.”
I blinked at her. “Why?”
She adjusted her glasses. “Not now. I have to get back to the bakery. I can talk to you when I’m finished with work.”
“When is that?”
“Two o’clock. You work at the college, right?”
I nodded.
“I’ll meet you by the campus entrance at two thirty.”
Before I could answer, she bolted back for the store. My heart lifted as I continued my way down the sidewalk, until Chief Rose sidled up next to me. I jerked a look over one shoulder. “Where did you come from?”
She smirked. “You don’t look too happy to see me.”
“I don’t like how you appear out of thin air.”
She shrugged. “It’s a special talent of mine. Now, tell me more about the attempted rescue last night of Buckley and Fanning.”
“Are they okay?”
“Sure. Their truck wasn’t too bad off. They’ll be back on the road by the end of the day.” She folded her arms across her chest.
I wasn’t so sure that was good news.
She cocked her head. “So what did they say to you?”
“Nothing important. Just like I told you last night. They cracked a few jokes.” I didn’t mention that Curt had reached into the car.
“Good. It was nice of you to stop, but in the future, you will be better off if you stay away from those two.”
I picked up the pace. “I plan to. I can’t help wondering what they were doing out that way, since they’re all Amish homes there.”
“You think they are the ones harassing the Amish?”
I nodded.
“I agree, but I need concrete proof.”
I frowned. “Did the tornado do much damage?”
“It destroyed some outbuildings around the county, but no homes. No one was seriously hurt.”
“Thank God for that.” The college came into view.
The chief kept up my pace. “I heard you got caught on the road in the tornado last night.”
I stopped. “How’d you hear that?”
She laughed. “I don’t think you understand how life in a small town works.” Chief Rose removed her mirrored sunglasses. I wondered, for the second time, if she chose those to wear while in uniform because they were so popular on cop shows. Maybe she thought the sunglasses would make her more attractive to the sheriff’s department as a deputy.
I shook my head and started walking again.
“And Timothy Troyer was with you.”
I froze. How could she know that?
The police chief put her sunglasses back on. “I would be careful about how close I got to the Troyer family, Chloe. You may think they’ve let you into their world, but you will never completely fit. Trust me. I have lived around the Amish my entire life. What makes you think you can break into their family in such a short time?”
That is none of your business. I gritted my teeth. “Is that all?”
She tipped her hat at me, that smirk still squarely on her face. “For now.”
Chapter Forty-Six
As I walked onto the Harshberger campus, my thoughts turned from Chief Rose to the Computer Services Department.
My cell rang. “Miss Humphrey?”
“Yes.”
“This is Tyler Hart. Becky’s public defender brought me up to speed on her case. Her case is set to be heard at the Knox County Courthouse on Tuesday.”
“So soon?”
“There was a cancellation on the court’s calendar, so I was able to get her in. It shouldn’t take long since she is pleading guilty to all the charges.”
“There are no new charges?”
“No. She needs to be there at eight thirty Tuesday morning. I know the judge. He usually makes up his mind quickly. We should know her sentence within the hour.”
I pressed my lips together, taking in all that Becky’s lawyer told me. “What do you think it will be?”
“Like I told you and Becky in my office, I’ve asked for community service and probation. I think the prosecutor will go for it. He doesn’t want to send an Amish girl to jail.”
My breath caught in my chest. “Is jail possible?”
There was a pause. “If the prosecutor decides to add auto theft to the list of charges, yes, she would get at least six months in jail.”
My knees went weak. “She didn’t steal the car!”
“I know, I know. Don’t worry. I’ve seen a draft of the charges. It wasn’t on there. If it shows up, we’ll fight that. Just make sure Becky’s there on Tuesday. The best thing to do is keep the prosecution on our side and the judge happy.�
��
I stepped into the department to find Miller and Clark hovering over their laptops at the conference table. Joel wasn’t in the office yet. Why was I not surprised?
“Good morning,” Clark said.
Beads of perspiration gathered on Miller’s upper lip and the crease of his brow.
I put the cookies and pie on the conference table.
Clark eyed it. “Is this like a last meal before the execution?”
I sighed. “No.”
Clark grinned. “I’m not saying I won’t eat it. I love strawberry pie.” He nodded toward Miller. “You can have the cookies. I’m not wasting my time on those.”
Joel arrived as Clark was slicing the pie in half. He pointed at one half. “This is my share. You can divide the rest among yourselves.”
Joel glared at the table, then at me. “Is that from your little Amish friends?”
I ignored his comment and went into my office.
“Dude,” Clark said. “You’re making it worse for yourself.”
“I already know how this is going to go,” Joel snapped.
So do I. The decision had been clear from the beginning. At ten o’clock, my office phone rang. It was Dean Klink’s secretary, Irene. He wanted to see me again.
I walked to the dean’s office as if to the executioner. Inside Dean Klink’s office, fishing lures reflected colorful light around the room. He smiled at me from his seat. “You have to make a decision.”
“I . . .”
“I know this is hard, Chloe, but we need to do this for the college.”
The decision was made, but I had a question of my own before I gave the dean my answer. “Why did you hire me?”
The short man pushed away from his desk and peered at me with narrowed eyes, as if taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“There are plenty of qualified candidates out there looking for work who would love this job. Most of these people have much more experience than I do. Why did you choose me?”
He licked his lips. “I knew you were the best person for the job.”
“How?”
Plain Death Page 24